Student in Sunnydale
by Enterprise1701-d
Summary: An Immortal comes to Sunnydale. I wanted to see what I would come up with if I tried this almost overused genre myself.


**Student in Sunnydale.**

Llewellyn was taking a shortcut through Sunnydale, hoping to get home sooner. His thoughts dwelled on his daughter, Samantha. He had adopted her eight years ago, and both had developed into a relationship that was closer to being friends than being father and daughter. As his thoughts dwelled on the raven-haired girl, a smile came to his lips. Pressing the accelerator a little further, the Dodge Viper accelerated. 

The next moment, a scream pierced the air. Llewellyn's instincts, honed by almost 1500 years of continuous study and training, went into overdrive. He slammed on the brakes, and the car screeched to a halt. Looking around, he saw two men struggle with a woman. Then, his blood turned ice-cold. The two men were vampires. 

"Dammit, my sword's in the trunk!" he grunted, and jumped out of the car. He knew he didn't have much time, or the woman would be food by the time he got there. He ran toward the two vampires, screaming at the top of his lungs. 

The two vampires, hearing the scream, looked up. This was all the time Llewellyn needed. He jumped up, and delivered a devastating 360-degree kick to the first vampire's jaw. The vampire's neck snapped as the head turned backwards on the beast's neck. The second vampire, releasing the victim, attempted to jump Llewellyn while he was landing. Llewellyn, having expected this, slammed his elbow into the vampire's stomach. The vampire went down, grunting. Llewellyn grabbed the vampire's head, twisted, and broke the second neck that day. 

Hurrying, Llewellyn ran at a full sprint to his car, and opened the trunk. He retrieved his sword, and ran back to the spot where the first vampire was regaining consciousness. The sword came down as the vampire was crawling on all fours, trying to regain his equilibrium. 

Not paying attention to the ashes, Llewellyn walked to the second vampire, who was looking at him, with something of respect, but fear was the most dominating. 

"Who are you?" the beast asked, his voice tinted by fear and awe.

"My friends call me Llewellyn. You things never get to call me shit," Llewellyn said. His sword made a quick slashing motion, and the second heap of dust quickly scattered in the wind. 

Putting his katana down, Llewellyn examined the woman. She was hurt pretty badly, and was bleeding profusely. The vampires had beaten her up first, to keep her from struggling. 

"Those things never learn," Llewellyn grunted. "They shouldn't play with their food." 

He calmed himself, and closed his eyes. The ancient Egyptian words came naturally, just as naturally as when he had first learned them, 1700 years ago. The woman glowed in bright amber as he healed her wounds. She would remain unconscious, her body having to recover from the trauma first. 

As Llewellyn got up, and grabbed for his sword, he found a gun pointed at him.

"This is the Sunnydale police! Put the weapon down, lie on the floor, and put your hands behind your head!"

Llewellyn's mind kicked into overdrive. _I've never been in jail before. Might be an interesting experience,_ he thought. Nodding, he put the sword back on the floor, and got flat on his stomach, putting his hands in his neck. He didn't have to wait long before the cop put cuffs on him. 

"You are under arrest for assault. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney…" the man drummed the Miranda warning, obviously just saying it because he had to.

He was led to a police car, and shoved into the back seat, while a boy who had been hiding in the shadows disappears. 

"I'm telling you Buff, this guy made you look like an amateur!" Xander finished the report on what he had seen. 

"Oh, my," Giles, the librarian, said.

"Did you get something else?" Buffy asked the dark-haired boy.

"Nope. Sword-boy got chunked into the backseat of that police car, and that was it."

"Willow, could you look into the police records?" Buffy asked a redhead.

Willow, the computer geek of the bunch, nodded. "I'll take a look Buffy," she answered the blonde.

"Ah, here it is. Llewellyn Morgan. Age 22. Arrested for assault and battery. Oh, uh, he lives in Beverly Hills!"

"He lives WHERE?" Buffy raced over to the computer, and looked into the record. "Well I'll be. This guy lives in Beverly Hills. Than what is he doing killing vampires in Sunnydale?"

"That seems to be the million dollar question," Xander responded. 

"Maybe we should erm… pay him a visit?" Giles suggested. 

"It's nine in the evening. Think they'll let us in?" Buffy asked.

"Unless we try, we won't be sure," a fair-haired boy named Oz said. 

"Count me out! Jail is no place for me!" the black-haired Cordelia said, backing off slightly. 

"Fine, Cordelia. The rest of us are going to pay a visit to this Llewellyn Morgan character," Buffy said, receiving a nod from the other members of the team. 

Llewellyn sat in his cell, his legs folded on top of the bunk. So far, jail wasn't that bad. Sure, he had been stripped, his positions impounded, and his freedom had been limited. He had chosen not to call someone tonight, and call Fred in the morning. Fred Dubois was one of the top lawyers in the country, and a close enough friend of Llewellyn's to know his secret. After all, Fred owed Llewellyn his life. 

Llewellyn's thoughts did dwell on Sam, however. The girl would be concerned when he didn't come home. But she would understand once Fred called her. Sam knew Fred quite well, and would trust him enough to do as he told her. 

The cells next to his were also occupied, but Llewellyn didn't know what the men in the cells had done. He didn't care.

"Hey, sweetheart! When you get out of here, gimme a call, and I'll give ya something you'll never forget!" the man in the cell next to his suddenly said. The other man laughed. Llewellyn opened his closed eyes. The chips of gray ice set on the man. 

"No, thank you," Llewellyn responded. 

"What? I'm not good enough for ya?"

Llewellyn got up, and walked to the side of his cell. The cells were adjoining, separated by only vertical steel bars. 

"Come here, _sweetheart_," Llewellyn taunted. A couple of hundred years ago, he had been a jailer, and he knew how to deal with people like this. The man grinned, and walked over, obviously getting the wrong idea. 

Llewellyn's right hand shot out through the bars, grabbed the man's neck, and squeezed.

"My charges are assault and battery with a deadly weapon, namely a sword," Llewellyn began. "But what the pigs don't know is that I am responsible for some pretty bloody stuff back in Washington, D.C. "

The man grew pale. "What are you in for, honey?" Llewellyn asked.

"R…R…Robbed a liquor store," the man grunted. 

"You think you're a man for robbing a liquor store, right?" Llewellyn asked. "Well, let me tell you something. You're not a man in my book before you tied up an entire family, father, mother, two daughters, and three sons, and slowly tortured their scruffy dog to death before their very eyes. Then you untie the first daughter, rape her, tie her back up, and go on with the next one. After you raped every daughter, and the mother, at least half a dozen times, you start the real fun."

Llewellyn never did such things, just described the most horrible crime he ever came across while working for the FBI, back in the 60's. Inwardly, he was having fun jerking this ass around, making him think he had just tried to get it on with a madman.

"Under real fun I understand skinning, for instance. But first, you slid the people's eyelids, forcing them to watch. You know, I had fun for about three days before the neighbors got suspicious, and called the cops. So, I added 46 accounts of cop-murder to my list of accomplishments. That's why they don't know about me today."

The man had by now pissed his pants. Llewellyn released him, and he fell backwards, hurrying over to the other side of the cell, looking like a frightened animal at Llewellyn, who calmly sat back on the cot, folded his legs again, and once more closed his eyes. He decided to augment his freshly earned 'nutcase' reputation by another few notches. He dove deep into his memories, and pulled out a Welsh song. With very precise tones, he started singing.

Clyw! Clyw! for eu ol glod,  
O! fwyn ed yw'r defn yn nau n dod,  
O wyn fa lan i lawr.  
Ai man ddefn yn nau can,  
An ei rif lu ryw dyr fa lan,  
Ddi hangodd gyd a r wawr?  
Mud yw'r aw el ar y waun,  
A brig y grug, yn esmyth gryn.  
Gwran do mae yr ab er gain,  
Ac yn y brwyn ym guddia'i hun.  
Mor ne fol serch ol yd ydw'r sain,  
Sy'n dod i swyn o dyn. 

Rise, rise, thou merry lark,  
Whose upward flight I love to mark,  
At early dawn of day.  
Leave, leave, thy mossy lair,  
With light wing cleave the yielding air,  
And carol forth thy lay!  
Sweet, oh sweet the honied note  
That swells within thy warbling throat!  
'Tis a stream of melody  
That steals the raptured soul away,  
Delightful harbinger of day  
My blessing go with thee!

Cwyd, cwyd ehedydd, cwyd,  
O le i le ar aden lwyd.  
Yn uwch, yn uwch o hyd:  
Can, can dy nodau cu,  
A dos yn nes at lawen lu  
Adawodd boen y byd.  
Canu mae, a'r byd a glyw  
Ei alaw lon o uchel le:  
Cyfyd hiraeth dynolryw,  
Ar ol ei lais i froydd ne':  
Yn nes at Ddydd, yn nes at Dduw  
I fyny fel efe! 

Night's ling'ring shades are fled,  
And Phoebus, from his ocean bed  
Through aether wings his flight.  
Oh! let my music sweet  
His presence with glad welcome greet  
In ditties of delight!  
Higher yet, still higher fly  
Still soaring upward to the sky;  
As when, in Eden's fairest grove  
Unto the new created pair  
You first did tune, to music rare,  
A merry song of love!

It was a song from the late 1700's, one that he had remembered through all the stuff he had collected in his mind. As he cast a glance at the men incarcerated with him, he could see the fear on their faces. He smiled inwardly. It had been a long time since he had so much with total strangers. Then, the 'Buzz' hit him. The telltale feeling shot through him, signifying that another Immortal was near. With a lot of hard work, and taking him nearly 100 years, he had managed to hide his own Buzz. At least, he could hide it when he was awake. When he was asleep, or unconscious, his shields crumbled, and his Buzz was as strong as ever 

_A Buzz? Here? Thank God mine's hidden. I'm not in the mood to fight now. Wait a minute… that Buzz is young. Very young. Maybe a year? Or two? And it hasn't been properly trained. Whoever owns it is a sitting duck. I wonder…_

Llewellyn's thoughts interrupted as a group of people were led in the holding area. A man, in his mid-forties, a pretty blonde, and a boy with brown hair. 

_I wonder who they're here to see. And I wonder which one of those is the owner of that pathetic Buzz? The man? Not likely… he doesn't act the way. But then again, neither of them does._

"Get up, Morgan. You have visitors," the cop said to him.

_Me? I don't know them! Why would they come to see me?_ Llewellyn got up, letting some of the surprise seep through.

"We'll be fine, officer," the man told the cop, who obediently locked the cell, and got out of the room. 

"Mr. Morgan, we uhm…" The man started, and then noticed the other two men.

"Don't worry about those clowns. They won't tell anything. Won't you, sweethearts?" Llewellyn asked the two men. The two criminals started shaking.

"No, man! Your secrets are safe with us! We won't tell! We won't!"

Llewellyn shot a devilish grin at them, and turned back to his visitors. 

"So, how can I help you?" Llewellyn asked in a friendly voice. 

"I saw you waste two of them. How?" the boy asked. The prisoners, thinking that the boy was referring to two humans, thought that the small group must have a death wish of some sort, pissing off a nutcase like that. 

"Training," Llewellyn responded. "Now, who are you?"

"I am Rupert Giles, this is Buffy Summers, and this is Xander Harris", the man introduced himself and his two companions. 

"Very well, Mr. Giles. I take it you and your group know what they were. Then I also take it you're allied with the Slayer," the other inmates were even more scared now. _Slayer? A SLAYER?? Those three know some guy called the Slayer? _

"How do you know about the Slayer, Mr. Morgan?" Giles asks.

"I've known about her for a long time," Llewellyn responds. The others started pissing their pants again. 

_A woman? The Slayer is a WOMAN? _

"How long?" the girl, Buffy, asked. 

"This isn't the place to talk about that sort of business," Llewellyn said. "You know what, why don't I go with you, and we can discuss this in private. Give me ten minutes, ok?"

All three gaped at him as if he were nuts. The two other inmates, thinking that the lunatic in the next cell was going to wipe out the police force, got so scared they couldn't see straight. 

"Guard! Hey, guard!" Llewellyn yelled. The guard came running.

"What?" he asked.

"I want out," Llewellyn said deadpan. 

The guard started laughing. 

"I did not assault that woman, and I can prove it."

"Right. And I'm the Easter Bunny," the guard replied, and opened the cell to let the three visitors out.

"If you call the hospital, you'll find the woman in shock, but uninjured."

The guard laughed even heartier now. "You sure have a way with words, pal," the guard said. "But alright, I'll humor you."

The guard left with the three visitors. Llewellyn sat back on his cot, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes. 

"Hey, when are you gonna start killing?" the first inmate asked.

"Not in the mood. That doesn't mean I won't get in the mood," Llewellyn responded with a crooked grin. 

Not two minutes later, the guard returned. 

"Somehow, the hospital confirmed your story. You're free. For now." The guard opened the cell, and led him into the office, where his possessions were returned to him.

Now feeling back like he was supposed to, Llewellyn stepped into thee cool night air, the sheathed sword carried loosely in his right hand. He was still thinking of the small group he had met, and about the fact that they were nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a van pulled up to the curb, next to where Llewellyn was walking. 

"Hey man, need a ride?" a red-haired boy asked. 

"Nah, my ride's just around the corner, in the impound lot. Thanks anyway," Llewellyn responded. Then, he saw Buffy's head poke out over the passenger seat.

"You said we were going to talk," she said.

"I'll get my car and follow you," Llewellyn responded. "I don't like letting her gather dust on some police impound lot."

"Alright. Hey, you know what? Why don't I go with you? That way Oz can drive on, and you won't get lost," Buffy said, obviously referring to the boy driving the van.

"Sure," Llewellyn answered. "See you later," he said to the boy, who raised his hand in greeting as Buffy got out of the van. 

The van drove on, leaving Llewellyn and Buffy behind. 

"So, how long have you been the Slayer?" Llewellyn asked as he set a brisk pace for the impound lot. He definitely did not want to get there to find it closed. 

Buffy was startled beyond belief. "How did you…"

"I have met Slayers before, Buffy. You don't mind calling you Buffy, do you? Thanks. Believe me, you act every bit like every Slayer I've met." He bit down the painful memory of his Ingrid. He didn't succeed. _Ingrid… it's been 1500 years, and still I can't forget you, or our twenty years together._

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Buffy asked. 

"Depends on what you intend to do with those abilities of yours. Ah, here we are," Llewellyn said, walking up to the lot. It was a couple of minutes before closing time. He threw 50 dollars on the counter.

"The black Dodge Viper, license plate H8 VAM," he said. 

"Sure," the attendant replied. "Can I have some ID?"

Llewellyn flashed his driver's license in front of the attendant's nose. The man nodded. Llewellyn and Buffy walked though, following the directions of the attendant. 

"What do you mean, what I plan to do with my abilities?" Buffy asked as soon as they were out of earshot. 

"Well, are planning on broadening your horizons, or do you plan on staying with your Watcher all your life?"

"Ah. And what would be broadening my horizons? You?" ^she shot a grin at him. _He looks kinda cute. I wouldn't mind spending some time with him,_ she decided. 

"I am not looking for students right now. I have my hands full with Samantha as it is."

"Samantha?"

"Get in," Llewellyn said as they reached the black sports car, and he threw the sword in the trunk. "She's my daughter," he elaborated. 

_A daughter? Damn. He's married. Wow, what a car…_Buffy thought. 

As Llewellyn keyed the engine, the low growl shook her out of her reverie. Llewellyn got the car out of the lot without problems. 

"Now, where do I go?"

"The library of the high school," Buffy said, giving directions to Llewellyn. To her surprise, she only had to explain once. 

"How can you listen to this?" Buffy asked as they drove through the semi-deserted streets of nighttime Sunnydale. 

"Vivaldi's _four seasons_," Llewellyn explained. "It's one of my favorites. But, since you're the guest…" he reached for the radio, and stopped the playback of the CD.

Five minutes later, they pulled up to the high school.

"Isn't it a little late for it to still be open?" Llewellyn asked as he and Buffy entered the building.

"Giles is the librarian here," Buffy explained. "He has a key."

Llewellyn just nodded in understanding. When he entered the library, he saw that there were other people there as well. Giles was there, as well as Xander. The boy driving the van, Oz, was there as well. There were two other girls there he didn't recognize, though. Llewellyn took the seat that was offered to him with a 'thanks'.

"So, Mr. Morgan. How do you know about vampires? And how do you know about the Slayer?"

Llewellyn sighed. _This is the first time I've met a Slayer who was actually smart enough to stay with her friends after she's called. I wonder what is going on here._

"The secret of vampires and Slayers has been passed down through the generations, Mr. Giles. Me and every member of my family are trained from a very young age to fight them. We also hold records on the Slayers, which is the reason we know more about the girls than most girls do about themselves."

_Damn, I hate lying like this. Normally, I could have just told her and her watcher about my immortality, but those friends…I wouldn't want this to get out into the open. _

"And sometimes, we encounter one another, while fighting vampires… which is where I have met Slayers before."

_A total evasion this time. They shouldn't know I have teamed up with ten different Slayers._

"And why do you do this?" Giles asked.

Llewellyn shrugged._ All right, I'll lie again. _"We just do. It's a duty handed down to us, and we gladly accept it."

"You're a strange man, Llewellyn. There is more to you than meets the eye," Giles said. 

_Far more than you know. _Llewellyn gave a mysterious smile. He opened his coat as his cell phone rang. 

"Morgan," he answered. He listened intently to the voice on the other side. The others startled when they saw him grow pale.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine…do you know who did it?" his voice was weak, almost faltering.

"Thank you," he whispered, and closed the connection. 

"Is something wrong, Mr. Morgan?" Giles asked.

"Someone…Someone just kidnapped my daughter. When I find out who did it, I'll rip his throat out and shove it up his ass!" Llewellyn shouted. He knew that he was very able to carry out such a threat. He could do worse than that, but he wasn't going to let this group know that. His cell phone rang again.

"Morgan," he answered, more shortly this time. Friendliness seemed to have left the man. The next moment, they heard him shout. In a language none of them had ever heard. The phone was snapped shut with such a force most thought it would break. 

Llewellyn seemed to think for a moment, totally forgetting where he was. He opened the phone, and dialed a memorized number.

An answering machine picked up. 

"Fox? Lion. The peaceful sleep has been disturbed. Need backup," Llewellyn spoke into the machine. To his surprise, a second message played.

_Lion, I'm in Sunnydale if it's urgent enough to warrant you to use the keywords I've programmed into my computer._

The connection closed.

"Is there anything of value in Sunnydale? A museum with a costly exhibit or something?" he asked the group. They stared at him as if he were nuts.

"Uhm…yes, the new Egyptian exhibit in the museum just arrived today…" one of the unknown kids said. She had been introduced as Willow, and she seemed to be the resident computer geek annex science nerd. 

"Where is the museum?" he asked. "It's important. I can find my friend there. I know where my daughter is. I'm going to get her, with his help."

"I can show you," Buffy said. 

_Knowing Fox, he brought his transportation. And knowing her line of work, she'll be able to keep a secret. She'll certainly have to if Fox's already inside._

"Alright," Llewellyn allowed. He jumped up "I'll be back shortly. I need to do some more research before going after this guy." After saying that, he set out a sprint, with Buffy hot on his heels. By the time she got outside, Llewellyn had already pulled up the car. She jumped inside, and started giving directions. When Llewellyn reached for the radio, Buffy grunted silently.

_God, no more classical music, please!_

When heavy metal blazed out of the system, she looked up in shock. 

_This is the way we want it to be, this is the way of the Warrior,_ Hammerfall sang. _Walking the way, the honest will see, walking the way of the Warrior._

Buffy thought it was rather fitting. She also let her thoughts dwell momentarily about the fact that Llewellyn seemed to have more layers than she had first thought. She couldn't think for too long, though. The Viper raced through the streets at speeds that boggled her mind. 

"There, across the street," Buffy told him, pointing to a large building.

"Hold on," he told her. He slammed the gear into neutral, and pulled the hand brake. The rear wheels locked, and the car fishtailed across the street. With a routine gesture, Llewellyn jerked the steering wheel. The car came to a perfect halt parallel to the curb.

Buffy was astonished. _What a driver_… she thought.

Llewellyn jumped out of the car, and walked to the trunk. He took out his sword.

"So, where is your friend?" Buffy asked.

"There's his bike," Llewellyn pointed to some bushes. "He's already inside."

"Inside?" she asked dumbly. 

Without answering, Llewellyn walked up to the door, looked at it, shrugged, and kicked it in. He walked inside. Dumbly, Buffy followed.

_But he's a lousy thief._ She added to her earlier comment.

Llewellyn looked around, and walked resolutely to the right. When Buffy caught up with him, they could see a man, dressed in black, dangling from a robe, about to take come artifact out of its glass display case. 

"Fox," Llewellyn said, walking up to where the robe had been connected to a machine. Just as he had thought, his 1,000 year-old student had masked his Buzz as well.

"Damn," the other man muttered, and started swinging. "Lion, no!" 

Llewellyn took his sword, and artfully cut through it with a single stroke. The man known as Fox fell to the floor right next to the display case.

"You could have triggered an alarm!" the man shouted. "How did you get in here in the first place? And who is she?" he pointed to Buffy.

"I kicked in the front door, and this is Buffy. The current Slayer. Resident to the Hellmouth."

_Hellmouth? He knows about the Hellmouth? Who is this guy?_

"And what is important enough for you to come in here and bust my job?"

"Sam's been kidnapped. By Ricardo."

"Fuck!" 'Fox' grunted. "You know where he is?"

"Not yet. Rendezvous at the library. Be there." Fox nodded. 

By the time Llewellyn and Buffy made it to the library, 'Fox' was already right behind them, his equipment packed on the back of his bike. 

"So, what happened?" 'Fox' asked as soon as he jumped off the bike. 

"Got here, kicked some vamp ass, got thrown in jail, got out, got phone call from Beverly Hills police, had phone call from Ricardo, to taunt me and to give me a location," Llewellyn rumbled. Buffy stared wide-eyed at him, and her eyes went open even wider when she saw 'Fox' nod in understanding. 

By that time, the three entered the library. 

"Everyone, Crevan, Crevan, everyone," Llewellyn introduced. To 'everyone' 's surprise, Crevan just nodded.

"I need you to find out where he called from," Llewellyn said, giving Crevan the phone. Crevan started dialing immediately, and talked into the phone for a couple of moments. He hung up, to be called back mere moments later.

"Yep, you got it," Crevan said. "I'll be waiting, it's for the day before yesterday. THEN MAKE THE TIME, PAL!" he shouted, and slammed the phone shut.

"He gave me an address," Llewellyn said. "I need you to check it out." 

"Depends where," Crevan replied. 

"Sunnydale Industrial area, warehouse 572."

Crevan opened the phone again. "Warehouse 572 , Sunnydale industrial." And he slammed it shut. 

"And now what?" Crevan asked.

"Wait," Llewellyn said. "We need to know more before risking our necks."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Crevan suddenly asked. "It's been 120 years, after all."

"WHAT?" Buffy and Xander shouted at the same time. Llewellyn betrayed nothing. Crevan's face betrayed nothing either, but inwardly he was confused. 

"I didn't tell them," Llewellyn told his student. He turned to the shocked group of people. 

"I am 1725 years old," Llewellyn said. "I was found near a road, and was raised by a druid. I first encountered vampires when I was 150, and it took me 50 years to find out just what they were. I found out when I helped a girl fight them. Her name was Ingrid. She was a Slayer."

Buffy laughed, so did the rest. "Yeah, right." She said, and resumed laughing.

"That's the funniest joke I've ever heard," Xander said. "This guy's daughter gets kidnapped, and he cracks jokes."

Llewellyn extended his right arm. Crevan took it. Without an emotion crossing on either's face, Crevan jerked. The elbow snapped with a sickening crunch, and was now extended 90 degrees… in the wrong direction. Everyone stopped laughing. Then, Llewellyn jerked. The arm popped back in place, and blue sparks crossed the skin as the bone knitted itself back together. 

"That's a trick," Xander said. Without twisting a muscle, Llewellyn got up. He walked to a special compartment, locked down with fences.

"Weapons locker," Llewellyn said. "Would you mind if I borrow something?" 

Giles shook his head. "Erm, no. Go right ahead."

Llewellyn reached for the door, to find it locked. 

"No!" Buffy shouted. Too late. Llewellyn had kicked it in. He took out a crossbow.

"It's been a while since I used one of these. Crevan? Would you mind…?"

"Not at all. I really enjoy this part. Everyone, please keep your shocked expressions on, ok?" he removed his upper clothes, and stood in front of Llewellyn, who aimed. Everyone looked shocked, even more. 

"Wait!" Buffy jumped up, but not before Llewellyn had pulled the release. The arrow whooshed through the air, and embedded itself deep in Crevan's heart region. It was an instantaneous fatal shot, and everyone knew it. Llewellyn calmly put the bow down, and walked to Crevan's corpse. He took the arrow, jerked, and threw it next to the bow. Crevan gasped, and veered up. 

Everyone looked as if they were watching the creation of a ghost. Blue sparks crossed Crevan's chest as his wound closed. Soon after, he put his clothes back on as the blood got reabsorbed into his body. 

"As I said, we do not age, get sick, or die from any wounds. Our only weakness is decapitation," Llewellyn said. 

As Llewellyn's phone rang, Crevan answered. "He phoned from the same warehouse you gave me the address to," Crevan told when he hung up. The next moment, Crevan's cell phone rang. He answered, and slammed down almost immediately.

"He's got a fucking army. 15 men, armed with M16A1 rifles," Crevan said.

"No problem," Llewellyn said.

"It has been 120 years since you fought an Immortal. Are you sure you're up to it?" Crevan asked. "You did swear never to fight an Immortal again."

"And I didn't. Now this sicko wants me for killing his student. But I'm going to get him first. If he's hurt her…"

"Lew, she's my niece. I know how you feel. She's like a daughter to me. We'll get him. If you die, he dies right after. No quarter."

"Let's go," Llewellyn said, and Crevan ran right after his teacher. 

"Now what?" Buffy asked. "Those two can't die, and they're going after the daughter of one of them."

"I'd run if you want in," Xander said. "Those two are breaking every speed record known to man."

By the time Buffy got outside, she saw Crevan's bike roar right next to Llewellyn's Viper. The car screeched to a halt, followed shortly by the bike. The passenger door was roughly thrown open.

"Get in," Llewellyn barked. "We'll need directions to the industrial area."

Buffy jumped in the car, which roared off before she even got the door closed. Buffy was no champion driver, but Llewellyn's style made her dive for her seatbelt.

Music blared once more through the stereo system. Hammerfall was singing again, the volume was turned up to maximum. Llewellyn's senses were going into overdrive. Buffy covered her ears, and stared at the man, who looked like he was possessed by some evil entity. Now she really believed him to be so old. He _looked _it. She listened to the lyrics over her clenched ears, shouting directions every now and then.

Oh, oh, oh

All she needed was a Champion

Oh, oh, oh

Crying for a savior to fight for her life

Oh, oh, oh

He stood up to be the Champion

Oh, oh, oh

He became the savior that fought for her life.

Buffy couldn't help but feel cold inside. The lyrics couldn't be more suited. When the car screeched to a halt, along with the bike, Llewellyn was out in record time. 

"Stay," Llewellyn told Buffy. He took the sword from the trunk, and walked towards the warehouse. He just walked up to the door, and kicked it in. the next moment, Buffy ducked as she heard the automatic rifles began firing. Crevan was not far behind, and dove in just as readily. 

Inside, Llewellyn's eyes were shooting fire as he executed one fatal maneuver after another. In less than five minutes, the two Immortals had eradicated the 15 men inside. Only then did they collapse of the gunshot wounds. It took them twenty seconds to revive. Less then a minute passed before the two men were whole once more. 

Llewellyn walked to the offices, where he could detect the faint pre-immortal Buzz of Samantha, as well as the strong Buzz of Ricardo. He ran up the stairs. 

"Ricardo!" Llewellyn's voice could freeze nitrogen, while his eyes could fuse hydrogen atoms together. "You wanted me, here I am!"

Ricardo smiled. "Llewellyn," he said, smiling. "Finally, we meet. I will avenge Juan's death!"

"Juan challenged me. I killed him. That's the 'Game'. After his death, I withdrew from it, until you forced my comeback. Fight. Now." Llewellyn's katana was released from its sheath. Ricardo drew a Damascus blade, a big sword, making it slow, but its blade was the strongest ever made. Llewellyn saw Sam tied to a chair. He could see her head hanging. 

"Sam!" Llewellyn shouted. "Samantha!"

The girl's head righted itself. Broken eyes looked at her father. Llewellyn's heart broke. "Dad. I knew you'd come," she said. Her voice was still strong. Life seemed to return to her eyes, and Llewellyn knew that her condition was because of her capture, and the fact that she had been unable to stop it from happening. 

Ricardo saw his moment. He raced toward Llewellyn, who just in time managed to right his blade, and catch the blow. The force was substantial, however, and Llewellyn was driven backwards through the door of the office. Ricardo kept it up, and with one final slash he managed to blow Llewellyn through the railing of the stairs. Llewellyn fell to the ground floor, and landed on his feet. 

Ricardo, mad with rage, jumped after his enemy. He landed on his feet as well, but the sickening crunch of broken bones accompanied by the grunts of Ricardo told Llewellyn everything he needed to know. His sword raced toward Ricardo, who managed to block. His bones had healed by now, and he got back up on his feet. The two were fighting an uneven match, and Crevan knew it. Llewellyn had been out of the Game too long, but with every strike Crevan could see Llewellyn regain his old vigor. 

Llewellyn sheathed his sword, and squared off against Ricardo.

"This ends now," Llewellyn said.

Crevan's eyes widened. _Battou-jutsu. Llewellyn's going to use Battou-jutsu! And knowing Lew, he mastered every possible style of it._ Crevan was right. His master and mentor blasted forward at a speed that made Crevan smile. Ricardo wasn't too bad either, because he managed to get his blade up in time to block. Unfortunately, the speed and strength of Llewellyn's quick-drawing attack was far superior to both Ricardo, as well as his blade. The top half of the Damascus blade embedded itself in the far wall. Ricardo's head fell. 

The bluish mist of the Quickening started to rise. Instead of waiting for the feeling of the other Immortal to enter him, Llewellyn walked up the stairs. Lighting crashed all around him, bursting lights and destroying windows, but Llewellyn remained impassive under the enormous pains flooding his senses. The essence of Ricardo entered his mind and his body, but the thought of Sam kept Llewellyn upright. 

He walked through the doors, the Quickening still raging around him, and with a single slash of his sword, he untied Samantha. The Quickening ended, and he picked up the girl. 

"Dad…" the ten-year-old whispered. "You did that…for me…"

"For you, Angel, I would do anything," Llewellyn whispered, pressing the girl close to him. Crevan walked up to the couple.

"Get a room," he joked. "Seriously, there's someone here who wants an explanation."

Llewellyn turned around, and looked at a shocked Buffy. 

"Sam, that Buffy, the Slayer. Buffy, meet Sam," Llewellyn said. 

"A real Slayer? Wow!" Sam said, her eyes beaming at Buffy. 

"Hi," Buffy said to the girl. "And there are still some things you have to tell us," she told Llewellyn.

"I will, don't worry. Sam, how are you?"

"Still groggy," the girl answered. "He used some kind of drug on me…and when I tried to free myself, he hit me a couple of times, then tied me to the chair."

"I'll get you healed up at the meeting point. Sam, I'm sorry you had to go through this… if I had just fought him…"

"Dad!" Sam said. "You vowed never to fight in the Game again. You didn't. He kidnapped me, which made it personal."

Llewellyn smiled faintly, and got up, the ten-year-old raven-haired girl still in his arms. "Buffy, I hope you don't mind riding on the back of Crevan's bike. Sam will ride with me."

"Don't worry," Buffy responded. 

Sam's eyes opened at the music coming from the sound system.

"Hammerfall?" she asked, decreasing the volume and changing to Vivaldi's _four seasons_. "You were that worried?"

The clenching of her father's eyes answered Samantha's question. "Don't worry, Dad. It's over now. We're both alright, we've found the Slayer, living on top of the Hellmouth out of all places, and Ricardo's dead."

"As good as, anyway," Llewellyn responded, pulling up on the parking lot of the high school.

"School?" Sam asked, getting out of the car. 

"The Slayer's been using the library as meeting point," Llewellyn answered. When he saw his student and Buffy stop right next to the car, he nodded at them. 

"You alright, Squirt?" Crevan asked the girl.

"Just fine. It takes more than half a liter of chloroform and some bruises to get me down," Sam told Crevan. Crevan smiled, and ruffled his hand through her hair. 

By that time, the foursome had reached the library, and Llewellyn pushed open the door. The group there stared as Llewellyn had Sam sit down. 

"You know the drill, Sam. Hang on," Llewellyn told the girl. Sam nodded, and Llewellyn closed his eyes. He started muttering the ancient Egyptian words of the healing spell. His face strained as he cast the spell for the second time that day. He pressed the yellow orb of power against Sam, who gasped as the energy healed her wounds. 

Llewellyn grunted, and sat down on the chair next to the girl. "Twice in an evening is pushing it," he told no one in particular. 

"Twice?" the girl asked. "Dad? Have you been getting yourself in trouble again?"

The group snickered at the 'again'. 

"Hey!" Llewellyn said, smiling. "For your information, young lady, I saved a woman from two vamps, I healed her, and I got thrown in jail for my trouble."

Sam winced. "Poor jail, I bet."

"Not really. The woman was already healed. No wounds, no charges," Llewellyn said, shrugging. He turned to the group. "Now, I'm sure you want to know more about me."

"After that lightshow, yes!" Buffy said. 

"What lightshow, Buffy?" Xander asked.

"The Quickening," Llewellyn explained. "I killed Ricardo, and his essence, his soul, was transferred to me. That is what happens when one of us kills another. You see, this Quickening transfers the essence of one Immortal to another, making the victor stronger. There are a lot of Immortals who believe that the last survivor gets some mystical prize, and they go around chopping each others heads off, preferably with swords, but axes are used as well." 

"And you, Mr. Morgan? Do you believe in this…butchery?" Giles asked.

"They call it the Game, Mr. Giles. But no, I gave up the Game 120 years ago. I never believed in it, but 120 years ago I decided the killing wasn't worth it anymore. You see, there are rules to this Game. One of them is that we can't fight on holy ground; a second is that these battles are always one on one. A third one is that a challenged Immortal must defend himself, or die. So, for over 1600 years, I defended myself when challenged. I always won."

"So you stopped defending yourself," Giles said.

"I ran away instead," Llewellyn said. "I didn't want to fight anymore. But tonight, when Ricardo got his hands on my daughter…I reverted back to someone I was a long time ago."

"Really? Who?" Buffy asked. 

"Let me tell you some of my life story," Llewellyn said. "I was born 1725 years ago, an I was found by a druid in present-day Wales. He raised me to be a druid, which explains why I have a knack for learning things."

"A druid learned everything by heart," Giles said. "No writings. Mr. Morgan, I'm impressed."

Llewellyn smiled faintly. "It's one of the times I appreciate the most. He may not have been my father, but the man has taught me balance. Then, one day, Lucious came. He was an Immortal, 800 years old, who found and trained me. I wasn't Immortal then. Over a course of two years he taught me who and what I was going to be. And when I first died, at 20 years of age, Lucious taught me how he lived. I ended up staying with Lucious for 100 years before we finally split up."

"What do you mean with 'first death', Mr. Morgan?" Giles asked. "If I understood you correctly, you can't die."

"Well, you see, an Immortal only becomes Immortal after he or she dies a first time. Then, aging stops, and the Immortal gains the rapid healing that is characteristic to them. Sam is a pre-Immortal, which is the reason why she didn't heal. Lucious lived by a certain code. For him, Immortality was a gift, a gift to explore, to learn, to experience things. I have taken over that system. So, after we split up, we kept in touch as much as was possible back then, and we both roamed the world independently. I finally settled down in what would now be Germany, and married for the first time. I was happy, and so was my wife. Unfortunately, Immortals can't have children, but that fact didn't seem to trouble my wife much.

Then, I came into contact with something new when my wife disappeared. I tracked down the group who kidnapped her, and I had to kill them Immortal-style before they would stay down. It certainly wasn't easy. The group was made up of vampires, but I didn't know that then. When my wife turned on me, I was forced to kill her, too. It broke my heart. Not knowing what to do with myself, and the things I had seen, I traveled the world, seeking spiritual advice. I studied arcane works to find out just what those things were. Unfortunately, I found nothing more than some hogwash. 

My luck changed when I met Ingrid," Llewellyn said, and broke off his story. He took a deep breath before continuing. "She was a Slayer. I stepped in when she was fighting overwhelming odds of those creatures. With my help, we won. Her Watcher, a man named Gerwyn, taught me everything he knew. I, in turn, taught him everything I knew about fighting, tactics, and so on. Things Lucious has taught me nearly 70 years earlier suddenly came in handy. Gerwyn became a father to the two of us, and Ingrid became …my second wife. For 20 years, we fought side-by-side against the darkness, even after Gerwyn passed on. Demons, vampires, we faced them together. When she finally succumbed to old age, she asked me for one thing: to continue the fight against vampires and demons. I vowed I would kill any vampire I encountered. I haven't broken that vow until this day.

That is why I have met ten Slayers so far, but that's for later. After Ingrid died, I once again started traveling the world. I learned to use a katana, studied the martial arts, and the arcane. And then, I got notice that Lucious was killed by a headhunter. I tracked him down. We fought. I won," Llewellyn said evenly. 

"So, there I was, maybe 230 years old, and alone on the world. My mortal family had long since died, and I had no Immortal friends. Lucious' teacher, Cetihotep, was dead as well. He was the one who taught Lucious the magic he taught me, by the way. So, I learned whatever came to interest. I learned to forge katanas, I learned to use them, and I mastered martial arts that have been dead for hundreds of years. I even helped in writing some occult works myself.

It must have been around the year 990," Llewellyn said, "when I first met Crevan Aegelmaere, here. His name, meaning 'infamous fox', was earned because he was the best thief in London at the time. I taught him to be an Immortal, and we stayed together for 50 years before splitting up. Crevan stayed in Japan to study Ninjitsu. He ended up staying for 50 years. I won't bore you with my travels, but I can tell you that I have tried many things, and when I'm interested, I have mastered them, too."

"Like what?" Buffy asked.

"I learned horseback riding from the Mongol Hordes. I stayed with the Shaolin monks, and an Indian guru. I have mastered many different weapons, but my favorites are the staff, the bow, and the sword. And yes, I've done some things in modern times, too. Like being in the Navy Seals, the FBI, and so on."

"That's…that's incredible," Willow said, her voice growing quieter as everyone focused on her. 

"Well, I've had a lot of time to learn," Llewellyn said. "Now, there's something I want to ask you. Have any of you died recently?"

"Not recently, no…" Buffy said.

"How long ago?" Crevan asked.

"Maybe a year," Buffy said. 

Llewellyn and Crevan looked at each other, and nodded. Samantha looked at her father. 

"Dad? What's going on?" she asked. 

"I think we've got ourselves something that only exists in theory," Llewellyn said. "Buffy, both me and my friend have been sensing a Buzz. We believe it's yours."

"What?" Buffy finally managed.

"We believe you are Immortal, Buffy. Both us have hidden our Buzz, so you haven't felt us, but we certainly have felt you," Crevan explained. 

"We can test our theory," Llewellyn said. "I will remove the shield of my Buzz. Buffy, look away for a minute. If you feel a splitting headache, look at me, and it'll disappear."

Buffy looked at the men as if they were insane. Shrugging, she said, "Fine."

As Buffy looked away, Llewellyn closed his eyes, and dumped the blocks around his Buzz. He could hear Buffy grunt. As his eyes opened, he saw her clenching at her head, grunting in pain. 

"Look at me, Buffy. The pain will go," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder to urge her on. Buffy turned around, and stared him in the face. Reief flooded her posture. 

"That's incredible!" Buffy said. "How did you do that?"

"That was the Buzz," Crevan explained. "It grows easier as you encounter it more. The first time is always the worst. The Buzz allows us to tell mortals and Immortals apart."

"Dad?" Sam asked. "I don't understand," she added.

"Don't understand what, Angel?" Llewellyn asked. "What's wrong?" 

"How can a Slayer be Immortal?"

"The odds are against it," Llewellyn said. "But, as you can see, it's possible. The Slayer is selected by a spirit, who gives the girl enhanced strength, stamina, and allows her to learn weapons very quickly. In this case, the spirit has chosen an immortal body. when Buffy died the first time, the spirit left her body, and chose another Slayer. Fortunately, it left the changes in Buffy's body intact."

"I see," Sam said, smiling.

"Sam and I are going back to Beverly Hills tonight. You got a place to stay, Crev?" Llewellyn asked. 

"I have my tent. I don't need more." 

Llewellyn grinned. "You've got millions spread all over the world, and prefer a tent. I'll never understand you," he grunted.

"Just like I will never understand how you not only manage to learn new things after 1700 years, not forget anything, and actually manage to build a fucking fortune in your spare time," Crevan returned, laughing. 

"It's a gift," Llewellyn said with a straight face and a sarcastically arrogant tone to his voice. 

"Yeah, just like that obnoxiousness," Crevan shot. 

"I'm a man of many talents," Llewellyn said. "A man with 700 years of experience on you," he added. 

"You'll never let me live that down, will you?"

"It's the truth," Llewellyn added. The rest of the group, minus Sam, were staring at the two immortals quipping with one another. 

"How much is a fortune?" Xander asked.

"Whose? His or mine?" Crevan asked back. 

"Both, I'd say," Giles said.

"I wouldn't know how much," Llewellyn answered, closing his eyes to focus on a mental image. "Somewhere between three and four hundred million, spread over secret accounts, and tied down in various enterprises."

"I prefer smaller amounts. It's easier to keep track off. I've got a couple of million spread in accounts and artifacts all over the world," Crevan said.

"You prefer smaller amounts because you can't get the big money," Llewellyn said. 

"At least I earn my money by myself," Crevan said.

Samantha sighed. "This will go on for a while…" she muttered. 

"When you're friends for a thousand years, you tend to have fun with each other," Llewellyn told the girl next to him. "You'll understand when you've trained your first student, and have known him or her for a thousand years."

"It's still a long way off," Crevan told the girl. Samantha nodded solemnly. 

"No, if you'll all excuse us, we've got to get home," Llewellyn said.

"Hey, where can we get hold of you? You know, for when thing get ugly?" Xander asked as the two immortals and the pre-Immortal prepared to leave. 

"I live in Beverly Hills. Just take a phone book, and look," Llewellyn returned with a grin. "Come on, Sam. I'll race you to the car."

Crevan shook his head as master and student raced from the library, both laughing. "He'll never grow up. and by God, I hope he never does," Crevan mutter half-loud. 

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked.

"It means that Lew still acts like a fucking 20-year-old whenever he has the chance," Crevan told the Slayer. "And I wouldn't worry about your training either. An immortal Slayer should be more than capable of teaching herself. I'm sure you already know how to handle a sword. I would suggest getting into a kenjutsu class, or something similar. Good bye, all. It's been a pleasure," Crevan told everyone, and left the library. The group that he left behind was shaken up by the things that had happened that evening. It was late by the time they finally broke up the meeting, and each went his, or her, own separate way. 


End file.
